


now we're there and we've only just begun

by storieswelove



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: F/M, Porn with Feelings, and for the two of them especially!, and sometimes she gets a little in her head, but she has a complex relationship with power and intimacy and power over gen, gen however is a simple creature and just wants his giant wife to ride him, if you want really specific tender early relationship smut then you have to write it yourself, there’s an intimacy to asking for something new from your partner, they’re new to this and figuring out what they want and what they like, this is just Irene riding him, you know what they say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29228901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieswelove/pseuds/storieswelove
Summary: A month into their marriage, Irene and Gen navigate intimacy and learning to ask for what you want.
Relationships: Attolia | Irene/Eugenides
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40
Collections: New Year's Resolutions 2021





	now we're there and we've only just begun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirazi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirazi/gifts).



> kirazi: I loved your prompts and desperately wanted to write you some Helen/Sophos (because I am always thinking about them and have just...so may Helen/Sophos WIPs) but this idea kept me awake at 4:30am last week and I had to write it. I hope this hits the mark for your request for exploration of power dynamics and more Gen/Irene intimacy. 
> 
> Title from “This Will Be Our Year” by The Zombies

Gen had crawled back up the bed and was kissing her again before the bright lights behind Irene’s eyes had cleared from her second climax of the night. Her new husband was persistent in his attentions; she barely had to think that she might want it before his hand or his mouth was finding her and bringing her to her peak. Tonight, she was well satisfied — more than — and eager to please him too. 

They had been married hardly a month but it was already clear to Irene that her husband tended to give with abandon but did not so easily take what he wanted for himself. She could please him with her mouth, and well enough with her hand — he had certainly made his enjoyment clear when she did. But Eugenides never  _ asked _ anything of her, only waited for her to reach for him. She had worried, for the first few weeks, that the problem was her — that he still feared her, that she was not skilled enough (she had certainly had no practice before Gen), that he had come to his senses and regretted his decision to marry her — but his enthusiasm was impossible to mistake for anything else, even for Irene, who struggled with those sorts of things.

But the fact remained that she wanted to be sure that she was giving him what he wanted. If he would not ask, then she would ask him. 

Irene kissed his neck, nipping softly at the skin there in the way she’d learned he loved. Her voice low and coaxing, she murmured against the column of his throat, “What do you want?”

“You,” he said breathlessly. 

Something in her stomach tugged at his words, nearly distracting her, but she pushed the desire to give in aside. This was not the first time she had asked, but it was the first time she pressed on. She bit at his earlobe. “What do you want from me?” 

“Anything you want, my queen.” 

She sighed, too quietly to be taken for anything but breathing when they were both already breathing heavily. “Gen,” she said, forehead tipped against his. He smiled, almost shyly, and when he opened his mouth she hoped, for a moment, that he would answer her. Instead, he hooked a leg over both of hers, and his arm around her back, hand tucked under her ribcage, and pulled her on top of him in one swift motion. 

It caught her off guard and she shrieked and laughed as her body was propelled on top of his. Gen grinned and, giving up for the moment, she kissed his pretty mouth, her hair slipping down her shoulders and onto either side of his pillow like a curtain surrounding them. They stayed like that, one of her hands twined in his curls and his hand exploring up her thighs and across the dip of her back, until their hips were rutting against each other, desperately seeking more friction. When she was finally desperate to have him inside of her, Irene made to slide off of him so that they might switch positions, but Gen held her in place with his hand. She sat up, confused, her knees still bracketing his hips. 

“Would you…” He smiled, and this time she was sure the smile was shy. “Can we try with you like this?” 

So that was what he wanted. She considered all the times in the last few weeks he had done the same thing, flipping her on top of him while they kissed, never complaining when she settled back into position with her metaphorical slippers toward the ceiling. 

“Of course,” she said, meeting his smile with one of her own. The look on his face turned from hesitant to something brighter, and she thought she felt his body relax beneath her. She bent down to kiss him and eased herself back up slowly, buying time by trailing kisses down his chest. It was not that Irene had not considered this position. She was perhaps  _ too _ eager to try it, she thought. It worried her, how much she liked the thought of sitting high above him and riding him while he lay pinned beneath her. She feared the power she had over him. Not power that she had to fight for or earn, as in so much of her life, but power that was freely given. It left her off-kilter; she had taken so much from him already. 

When she sat up, she was caught in a momentary panic that wound its way through her body, but the feeling was chased away by her husband’s eager touch and unfaltering gaze — she recognized it as the same expression he wore just before she took him in her mouth. 

She raised herself up on her knees and slipped him in, lowering onto him carefully. She closed her eyes. Slowly, still sitting tall, she rolled her hips back and forth to test the motion. It did not seem to move him much inside her, not the way he did when he was above her, but she was still sensitive from her climax and it felt good. She rolled her hips a few more times, a little more sure now, and then opened her eyes. 

She had been nervous, she realized as the tension left her shoulders. Even though he had asked for this, she had been worried he would not enjoy it. Instead, Gen looked as though he was in a stupor, eyes blown wide and lips parted. He had not moved or made a sound since she sat up. She smiled hesitantly and he returned it with one of his own, which she took as encouragement. Irene began to move again, slowly and then faster, and after a few rolls of her hips, Eugenides matched her movements with his own, pushing up into her on her downstroke. She could see how his eyes traveled up, watching where their bodies met, raking up her torso and eventually meeting her gaze. There was an intensity to being watched while so vulnerable, and she found from up above him she enjoyed it all the more. 

Irene let herself give in fully. It felt incredible. With every thrust down of her hips, the bottom of her thighs knocking hard against the top of his, Irene felt her body relax. She grew more confident in her movements, and threw her head back briefly as she picked up the pace, snapping her hips and throwing her shoulders back to counter her momentum. At some point, Gen took one of her hands in his and gripped it tight. All the while, whenever she looked, he was watching her. 

It was only when he neared his climax that Gen closed his eyes, releasing her hand and gripping her thigh as his rhythm faltered. He pushed his head back into the pillow and made noises as ragged as the movement of his hips as Irene rode him through it. 

When he was spent and boneless on the mattress, Irene raised herself up on her knees to move, intending to lay down beside him, but Gen gripped her leg then rubbed it in a motion he probably meant to be soothing (it came off a little frantic), saying breathlessly, “Stay, stay, please.” Irene smiled as she settled back on his hips, glad for the assertion that he had enjoyed himself as much as she suspected. When his breathing had stilled, he laughed briefly, his right arm thrown over his eyes. Irene tensed, worried she had misunderstood and braced for the worst, but when he uncovered his eyes they were shining in the moonlight streaming in through the window, and his grin was just as bright. “My excellent queen,” he said. 

Smiling herself and feeling a little bit smug, she bent down to kiss him, bracing herself on one arm and pushing his sweat-soaked hair from his forehead as she did. She settled onto her side, arm thrown across his chest and head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He kissed the top of her head and traced lazy circles on her bare back with the tips of his fingers. 

And later, when their legs were tangled together beneath the golden sheets and the first tendrils of exhaustion were beginning to take hold, Eugenides kissed her and whispered, “That was fun.” 

Sinking into sleep, Irene murmured her agreement and was pleased. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a fandom project to fill all the 2020 Queen's Thief Yuletide prompts before New Year's Resolutions close this fall! If you want more info on the project (or want to participate) feel free to message me on a social platform. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Come scream about QT with me on tumblr @ [storieswelove](storieswelove.tumblr.com) or [the Queen's Thief discord](https://discord.gg/JYJufae).


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